


December 8th: Hot Cocoa

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Advent Calendar, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Ineffable Advent, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Porn with Feelings, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Smut, but Zira is going to make him believe, he deserves love, he just doesn't believe it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: This is Day 8 of my Good Omens Advent Calendar for 2019, in which Crowley tries to give Aziraphale a treat after a long day, but Aziraphale decides to flip the tables.WARNING FOR SMUT IF YOU HAVEN'T BEEN PAYING ATTENTION TO THE TAGS!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550176
Comments: 14
Kudos: 167





	December 8th: Hot Cocoa

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy my Good Omens Advent Calendar! Consider it my Christmas gift to the fandom! And if you want to give me a gift in return, please leave me a comment (I live for them!) and if you're really awesome check out my other stuff by going to my blog over at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com! <3

Aziraphale loved the holiday season, he truly did. There was just one aspect of it that crawled up under his skin and scratched away at his patience, and that was the fact that more humans were out shopping. 

From the moment the season was officially underway, the streets of Soho grew thick with anxious shoppers scouring each and every shop for gifts for their loved ones. In theory, the concept was a lovely one to the angel, but when said shoppers wandered into _his_ shop, looking to buy _his_ books, well...even an angel could be forgiven for allowing himself to get a little stressed out. 

Aziraphale ushered the last customers out the door much later than he had intended and flipped the Open sign to the Closed side before leaning his head against the cool glass window with a heavy sigh. He'd had an extremely long day of chasing customers around, coming up with excuses to get them away from his first editions and graciously touring them through a section of more modern, popular books he'd acquired specifically for Christmas shoppers. He'd managed to avoid selling a single tome from his own private collection, but the experience had been exhausting, to say the least. 

With the door firmly locked and double-checked, Aziraphale waved the shop's lights off and dragged his fatigued corporation to the back room, where he snapped a lovely fire into the hearth and collapsed with a huff of air into his armchair. 

The angel wasn't one to sleep, but he may have drifted just a tad, because he thought he dreamed of delicious smells and warm treats and-

He wrinkled his nose. Took a long, deep sniff. Sighed in abject bliss. 

When the angel opened his eyes, there was a steaming hot mug of cocoa in front of his face, piled high with whipped cream and chocolate flakes, and being held by a smirking demon. 

"Thought you might need a treat," Crowley offered, "after such a long day of working so hard not to sell anything." His grin was playful and teasing and oh, so adorable. 

Aziraphale accepted the mug gratefully and took a careful sip. A pleasurable little sound escaped his lips as the creamy chocolate slid down his throat. It was the perfect temperature, the perfect amount of sweetness, the perfect indulgence after a long day. The angel's eyes lifted from his mug to settle on the shining amber orbs looking down at him, full of fondness and a genuine desire to please. 

Well...perhaps not _the perfect_ indulgence…

Aziraphale carefully lowered his mug to the side table and reached instead for his demon's lovely hands. He ran his thumbs over Crowley's knuckles, adoring the almost imperceptible little shudder that went through the demon's body at the touch. 

"You know," said the angel, glancing up at the demon from beneath his eyelashes, "I rather think there's another treat I'd enjoy much more."

Crowley carefully extracted his own hands in order to grip the arms of Aziraphale's chair and then leaned down, bringing his face closer to the angel's. His golden eyes were wide and playful and full of devotion. "What did you have in mind, angel?" he growled low in his throat. 

Aziraphale snatched that silly grey rope-tie Crowley wore and gripped it tight about the demon's neck, pulling him closer so that their noses barely met. "Oh, my dear, I think you know _exactly_ what I have in mind."

Crowley's lips pressing to Aziraphale's felt like all the warmth and wonder in the universe compressed into the delicate meeting of flesh on flesh. The demon kissed him, slow and sensual, the tip of his tongue dragging gently across the juncture of the angel's lips, eventually becoming more bold, more insistent. Aziraphale allowed his lips to be parted and moaned happily as the demon's tongue probed against his own. 

Crowley's knees came up against Aziraphale's thighs as he worked his way up onto the angel and willed the armchair large enough to hold them both. He positioned himself just so and let his body slide against the growing bulge in the angel's trousers. Aziraphale groaned into the demon's mouth, eliciting a little chuckle from said demon. He pulled away just far enough to gaze into icy blue eyes that had become hazy and unfocused. "Naughty, naughty angel," he teased. "Are you _coveting_?"

Aziraphale's hands wandered down purposefully to find and squeeze his demon's arse. "Oh, most definitely," he said with a saucy smile. 

Crowley dipped back down, quick as a snake, to claim the angel's lips again whilst grinding his hips in a truly tantalizing manner. Aziraphale maintained his grasp on the demon's arse, kneading his fingers into it and drawing a moan or two of his own. 

When the need had begun to grow to desperate, Aziraphale stood, easily lifting his demon as he went, and moved them to the fireside. As carefully as if he were handling the most precious thing he owned (which he was), he lowered them both to a thick, plush rug that hadn't existed a moment before. 

Crowley's hair, which he'd been growing out since the failed Apocalypse, spread out around his head in a way that made Aziraphale long to paint a portrait of his beautiful lover. Instead, he ran gentle fingers through the fiery locks while admiring the way his demon's gorgeous eyes had dilated in the most telling of ways. 

"I do love you so…" the angel whispered, his heart nearly bursting from the intensity of it. 

Crowley's lips flicked up into a cocky little smirk. "Too right, you do," he teased. 

But Aziraphale could still see that little spark of doubt that was ever-present in the demon's eyes. Though he might deny it, Crowley was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, expecting his heart to be broken, refusing to truly believe that he could have this, feel this, be _loved_ like this. Aziraphale hated seeing that vicious little spark, but he couldn't deny it and knew he'd been the one to strike it. So many years of turning away, hiding, denying the truth. Even if it had been to protect them both, it killed him to think of it now and to see the evidence of those millennia of hurt in his love's eyes. 

He intended to spend the rest of eternity working to extinguish that spark and strike a new one, one that would grow and burn and consume his demon in the flames of his undying love. 

Aziraphale dove down to nuzzle beneath his lover's chin and nip little love bites along his gorgeous neck. Crowley leaned back to expose more of his throat and allowed a soft moan to escape him. "Nnn…" The demon made a variety of lovely little noises as the angel kissed and bit and sucked little red marks all along his skin. "Angel...I was supposed to be treating _you_."

Aziraphale's lips curled into a grin as he licked a long stripe along Crowley's collarbone. "Oh, my dear," he growled low in his throat, "you _are_ my treat." 

Crowley shuddered in the most delicious way, but he also wouldn't be deterred. While Aziraphale nipped his way down the demon's chest, popping buttons as he went, Crowley wriggled an arm between them and roughly palmed at the angel's crotch. Aziraphale groaned against an exposed nipple, making the demon shiver in response, and then, suddenly, the two of them were giggling like fools. 

Oh, Aziraphale did so love to hear his demon laugh. But there were other sounds he loved just as much, if not more. 

While Crowley was distracted with his bout of giggles, Aziraphale wriggled down with far more grace than one would have expected of the soft, gentlemanly bookseller, yanking the demon's trousers and pants off in a single sweep as he went. Crowley yelped in surprise, but the shocked sound soon became a long, drawn-out moan as Aziraphale's warm mouth slide down around the length of him. 

"C-christ, angel," the demon keened. His hips canted up of their own volition, but Aziraphale held them down and hummed in that pleased way he did whenever he was eating something truly scrumptious. The shockwaves made Crowley dig his long fingers deep into the miracled rug. "F-f- Aziraphale...uhn- You d-dont'- _Fuck_ . You don't have to-" The demon's thought process was cut short with a sharp little gasp as Aziraphale dug the tips of his fingers _hard_ into Crowley's hips. 

The angel pulled his mouth away, torturously slowly, making Crowley whimper. When he was able to speak again Aziraphale shot his demon a particularly miffed look, eyes narrowed. "My love," he said in a low, dangerous voice as he squeezed those slithery hips hard enough to bruise. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were implying that I don't _want_ to be doing this."

Crowley bit his lower lip. His chest was heaving from gasps of air he didn't necessarily require. He managed to uncoil his fingers from the rug, only to stretch them briefly and then dig them in again as a way to steady himself. "It's just- I mean...usually we… I usually-" He struggled for several anxious moments to spit out a sentence before biting his lip even harder and shooting Aziraphale a wide-eyed look that begged the angel to understand. 

Luckily, he did. Aziraphale loosened the punishing grip of his fingers on the demon's hips and began to rub the abused muscles there instead. Crowley sighed at the change in sensations and some of the anxiety melted out of his body. 

"We haven't been doing this long," Aziraphale said, voice quiet, as he began trailing kisses up the demon's hips, stomach, chest, collar. "We're still learning, both of us." He laid a particularly warm, tender kiss against the base of Crowley's throat and nuzzled his nose into the demon's jawline. "And believe me, I _love_ that you always seem so intent to focus on me, my love. You're _so_ very good to me." 

Crowley made a little strangled noise in the back of his throat. When blue eyes met amber again Aziraphale could see that little spark tormenting him, expecting that something bad was coming. "But-?" the demon asked in a small voice. 

Aziraphale balanced himself on one hand and brought the other to Crowley's face. He smiled and felt his heart bursting in his chest when the demon automatically leaned into the touch, _needing_ the contact. 

" _But_ , my dearest," the angel hummed, and leaned close to press as much of their bodies together as possible, "sometimes _I_ want to focus on _you_." 

There was a flicker of something in Crowley's eyes that Aziraphale couldn't quite interpret. 

"I _love_ you, darling," the angel pressed on, rubbing his thumb in little circles against Crowley's cheekbone. "I love you _so_ much, and I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel special and loved and _worshipped_." The word made a visible shudder wrack through the demon's body and his eyes squeezed shut. "And I want you to understand," Aziraphale continued, "that your happiness is exceptionally important to me. More important, I should think, than absolutely anything else." 

Crowley let out a short laugh - something of a self-deprecating sound - and half-joked: "Well, except your books, obviously."

Aziraphale growled - truly _growled_ \- and gripped the demon's chin to force him to meet his steely gaze. "Anthony J. Crowley, I would send every book in this shop into the void of inexistence if I thought it would solidify your happiness for even a single day."

That flicker was back, delicate and tenuous. "Y-you don't mean that," Crowley whispered. 

"Don't test me, my love," Aziraphale countered. He released Crowley's face in order to lift his hand into a snapping position. With an alarmed yelp the demon snatched the angel's hand in both of his own, prying the fingers apart. 

"Okay, I believe you, I believe you!" Crowley cried. "Fuck, angel, don't be stupid!"

Aziraphale chuckled. He let his fingers become woven into the demon's and pulled them both toward him so he could press his lips to the back of Crowley's hand. "I know you'd never want me to do anything so extreme," he promised, "but I want you to understand that I'm nothing but sincere in my feelings for you." Loving blue eyes gazed into wide amber ones, desperate to convey the whole truth, begging his lover to see it and believe it and hold onto it with all of his heart. "I want to spend the rest of my existence proving to you that you mean as much to me as I do to you."

Crowley was trembling, and his breathing was coming in short huffs and puffs. Aziraphale began to panic, wondering if he'd said something wrong, but before he could question it the demon's arms wrapped around him and pulled him tight, clutching desperately. "A-angel," he gasped, voice broken. "P-please-" He choked on the word and couldn't seem to go further. 

Aziraphale managed to shift himself enough to push his fingers up into his lover's hair, massaging his scalp with firm fingers. "Tell me what you need, darling," he hushed. "It's okay. Let me take care of you…"

It took a few minutes, during which Crowley clung to the angel like the whole of existence depended on it, but eventually a breathy whimper met Aziraphale's ear. 

"T-touch me...please, a-angel…"

Aziraphale's chest felt light. He shifted against Crowley's loosening death-grip to pull himself up and claim the demon's mouth in a needy kiss that they both sank into with equal fervour. At the same time the angel worked a hand back down between them and took up his lover's cock once more. He moved in long, slow strokes as Crowley shuddered and groaned against his lips, experimenting with grips and motions and building a mental encyclopedia of the demon's reactions. He filed away every twitch, every moan, every whimper for safe-keeping, all while devouring his lover's breaths, his sighs, his gasps. 

He doesn't know how long they lay like that, their lips moving against one another while he worked his demon with deft fingers, and he genuinely didn't care. It could have been hours, days, weeks even, and it wouldn't have made a difference because Crowley had finally relinquished complete control and it was a wonderfully heady experience for the angel. 

"Zira…" the demon whimpered against Aziraphale's lips. His hips had begun to stutter and his fingers were digging into the angel's soft body. "Please," he gasped and held on for dear life. "P-please...tell m-me again-"

Aziraphale quickened his ministrations and pressed his soft cheek to Crowley's angular one so he could hum contentedly into the demon's ear. "I _love_ you, Crowley, my dearest, my heart," he sighed. "More than anything, I love you, my sweet, my darling, my everything…"

Crowley came with a cry that was part sob, part exultation. His back and neck arched backward, lifting his hips from the floor as he squirmed under his angel's continued strokes. Aziraphale gentled him through his orgasm while whispering sweet sentiments into his ear until finally the demon's body seemed to collapse entirely into a bundle of soft, breathy groans. 

By the time Crowley came back to his senses, Aziraphale had cleaned him, dressed him in soft, black silk pajamas and had the demon wrapped around him as they lay under a warm pile of blankets in the angel's bed. Aziraphale's fingers were carding through soft red hair and he was humming a slow, gentle melody. 

Crowley's finger's squeezed sleepily around the fuzzy tartan pajamas the angel had conjured for himself. "Zira?" he mumbled, blissed out and exhausted, and barely awake. 

Aziraphale nuzzled his face against that soft, beautiful hair that he loved so much and paused his little melody. "Yes, dear heart?"

Crowley's fingers pulled away from the angel's pajamas, only so he could wrap his arms around the plush, warm body beneath them. "Love you…" he hummed. "Love y'...more'n...anythin'..."

The demon was asleep before he could get through the last word, gentle breaths slipping through parted lips. 

Aziraphale pressed a soft kiss to Crowley's forehead while fighting to hold in the massive tidal wave of devotion that threatened to crash down and destroy them both. "I love you too, Crowley," he whispered. "More than anything…"

**Author's Note:**

> Guys...guys...this was supposed to be just plain old gratuitous smut, and somehow it turned into FEELINGS. I'm not sure exactly what happened. X*D


End file.
